The Interview
by LovelyJuice
Summary: Betty is tasked with writing an article for her university newspaper about Jughead Jones, a mysterious figure being recognized for leading the Serpents into a new era. As she learns more about him, and he shares more of himself, the connection is undeniable. And when she follows up to photograph him, they both know boundaries are going to be crossed. Bughead, one-shot, smut.


**Welcome to my first Riverdale story! I've become slightly obsessed with the show, and voila, here's the result. This is a one-shot. I'd love to hear your thoughts, especially as I get into writing more for Bughead! I obviously don't own them, but I like to make their characters do my bidding!**

Betty slid into her favorite booth at Pop's, shivering as her arms brushed the cold Formica table top. Even though she was cold in her light pink short-sleeve sweater and knee-length plaid skirt, she knew she'd get a milkshake. It was Pop's - it was a rule. And Betty, if she did anything, played by the rules. Sure, coloring within the lines may not be exciting or sexy, but she knew she'd built an impressive reputation of stringent righteousness. _Which is probably why V is constantly teasing me about being uptight,_ Betty thought with a grimace. Her best friend, who colored so far outside the lines that she may as well not even be in the coloring book, loved to poke at Betty constantly. Actually, all her friends did. Archie and Veronica, every time Betty blushed profusely when catching them canoodling in a dark corner, tried constantly to get Betty to loosen up and 'have a little fun.' Kevin, who from the outside was as straight-laced as Betty (even more so with a Sheriff as his father), had a wild side he'd recently been indulging with a man named Joaquin at a bar called the Whyte Wyrm. Even Betty's family, who liked to pretend they were as white bread as they came, each had their own dark proclivities. But Betty, despite all the urges and instincts that reared their shadowy, sultry heads often enough, preferred it this way. She felt safe swiping on her bubble-gum pink lipstick, tightening her hair into a tidy ponytail, and lacing up her white Keds. She felt in control...the only indication she might be slipping being the faded half-moon scabs on her palms that bore the brunt of her bridled darkness.

Betty drew in a long sip of her strawberry shake that Pop Tate had set down in front of her, smiling at her dear friend as she did. She checked her watch a moment later, hoping that her subject would be walking through the door any minute. She hated tardiness. Checking her notes another time, Betty made sure she had all the facts in order, all the questions planned out; ideally, the interview would feel more like a conversation. Through her experience as a journalist, first with the Blue and Gold, and then as features editor on the Riverdale University Journal, Betty had learned a thing or two about getting people to open up to her. Maybe it was her innocent appearance, or her sympathetic green eyes, or her probing questions that seemed to have no end, but Betty usually got the story that she was looking for.

Tonight, though, she wasn't doing an expose or an investigative piece. Honestly, this piece was more of a fluff piece, dropped the day before on her desk by her Editor in Chief, Dilton Doiley. "Kevin won't stop bugging me about this guy," Dilton huffed and had Betty glanced down at the name on the top of the file.

"Forsythe Pendleton III, AKA Jughead Jones." Betty furrowed her brow as she read the name. _Who is this man?_

"I want a personality piece on him in next month's Taste of Riverdale special edition."

Betty knew that each of the staff was writing a piece on prominent or influential members in the area. Mayor McCoy got a couple inches, as well as Ethel Muggs, for starting the campus movement against 'slut-shaming.' Apparently, their 'Talk of the Town' editor, her best friend Kevin Keller, had brought this one to Dilton's attention.

"Why doesn't Kevin do it himself?" Betty asked. It's not that she didn't want to do the piece; she didn't have anyone picked or assigned to her thus far. But she was curious.

"He's already got his plate full with this Hermione Lodge piece. Apparently, she wants to do her interview in a Balenciaga showroom as she gets fitted for the Met Gala, so he's naturally gaga and overwhelmed at the same time."

Betty had smiled, knowing Kevin was probably over the moon with his assignment.

"Ok, let me do some research on him, and then I'll reach out for an interview. It looks like this is his email right here?" Betty noted the address in Kevin's writing and wondered how he knew this man Jughead.

"Yeah, and if you have any trouble, reach out to your friend Archie. He seconded Kevin's proposal."

Betty's eyes popped wider in shock. _Archie knows this guy Jughead?_

The chime on the door at Pop's brought Betty out of her reverie, and she glanced up, not exactly sure who or what to expect. The only picture she'd found in her research was his Southside Highschool senior yearbook photo from eight years before. The tuxedo that all the guys were wearing suited his boyish face and dark hair, but something about the set of his mouth and challenging expression in his eyes made her think he wasn't a fan of the pomp and circumstance. She guessed that'd continued because, despite the handful of stories that had mentioned his name deep in the details, she didn't find one recent picture of Jughead Jones.

Despite this, she knew it was him as soon as he paused inside the entrance, trailing his gaze around the small diner casually, not in any hurry. Finally, his eyes stopped at her, and she saw them flick to her notepad and pencil sitting beside the tape recorder she had brought for their interview. She was in the back booth of the diner, so Betty had a moment to assess her subject as he approached. He'd certainly matured since his senior year. His boyish face had slimmed and hardened into a strong jaw and high cheekbones. The dark hair was the same, though it was a little longer and she figured when it wasn't raked back under a grey cap, it fell gently around his eyes. His eyes. Wow, she thought. Were they green, were they blue? Whatever they were, they were piercing. Finally, she assessed his attire... _As a journalist, it's only sensible to record all details,_ she thought as she gave him a once-over. He was strolling toward her in a pair of well-worn black combat boots, into which a pair of dark jeans were tucked. They led up his lean figure, toward the plaid shirt she could see peeking out under the leather jacket he donned. Betty felt a shiver go through her, and she wondered if it was still the cold of the table or not.

When Jughead finally made it over to her secluded booth, the blonde reporter hopped out of her seat, stretching out an eager hand toward him. "Betty Cooper. We spoke by email. Thanks for meeting me!"

The side of his lips quirked up minutely. _Peppy,_ he thought. But he grasped her hand anyway, shaking it firmly.

"Call me Jughead." Without waiting another moment, Jughead fell into the booth opposite where she'd been sitting, and his tall, lean form immediately filled up the space. One arm rested casually over the top of the booth, while his legs spread so that one foot rested just outside the booth.

Betty cleared her throat nervously at his apparent ease. She was supposed to be in charge here. She was the reporter. She'd done the research. But it seemed like it was his show now.

"Yes, great. Okay, Jughead Jones." Betty sat down once again, primly picking up her pencil and pad, flicking her glance between her list of questions and his calm expression as he watched her.

Before she could get started, Pop walked over and clapped a hand on Jughead's shoulder.

"Little Juggie Jones, as I live and breathe!" Pop's smile was wide and enthusiastic, and Jughead returned one similar. Betty was surprised, to say the least. She frequented Pop's, and had since her family had moved to town in her teens. She'd never seen Jughead here...she was sure she'd have noticed.

"Double cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake, like old times?" Pop had a great ability to remember his regular customers' orders.

"You know it, Pop. It's good to see you again. Sorry it's been so long since I've been in. Getting Jellybean to bring me takeout just isn't the same."

Pop smiled at Jughead. "It's alright. I know you've been working hard. I'm just glad to see you. And in such good company."

Betty blushed as both men turned to look at her. Pop was smiling joyfully, but Jughead was staring intently. It unnerved her.

"I'll be back in a minute with your food. You two enjoy...though I'm sure you will; you know they call this the Lover's Booth." And with a wink, he was gone, leaving Jughead to raise a brow at an even more furiously blushing Betty.

"I, uh, it's not, I didn't know. I thought we could use the privacy." The brow only raised higher. "For the interview! For recording!" Betty brandished the recorder like a shield.

Jughead chuckled lowly, and then leaned forward in his seat, placing his interlocked hands on the table in front of him. He was much closer to Betty this way, and she could smell the leather of his jacket and maybe the slightest hint of something deliciously spicy.

"Yes, about this interview," he said, drawing out the statement. "What's this all about? Why would a school newspaper want to interview me?"

Betty pursed her lips slightly. She didn't like the term 'school newspaper.' This wasn't some little room in a hall like the Blue and Gold. It was a major operation. And she wasn't some young, naive high school cheerleader...anymore. She'd run the gauntlet; she'd earned her chops.

"Well," she started confidently, "Every year the Riverdale University Journal publishes a "Taste of Riverdale" special edition, which focuses on notable figures in the community. Normally, it's obvious ones like the mayor or a major philanthropist, but sometimes names get submitted by readers or other journalists, and evidently, yours was thrown in the ring.

Jughead sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he sat back and crossed his arms. Though he didn't come off as insecure, the timing of his body language paired with her mention of people recognizing him for something positive clearly made him uncomfortable.

"Let me guess, Toni?"

Betty furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"Jellybean?" Another shake.

"Who then?"

"Well, it looks like you've got a lot of admirers. Kevin Keller and Archie Andrews both mentioned you to my editor. How do you know them both?"

Jughead shook his head with mirth as soon as he heard Kevin's name and then nodded understandingly when Archie was mentioned.

"Kevin's boyfriend Joaquin is a Serpent. He's been hanging around the Whyte Wyrm a lot lately, and I guess he's heard some things. And Archie and I go way back. Our fathers were best friends in high school and then ended up working together. Archie and I practically grew up together. I did some work for Fred's campaign when he was running for mayor."

Betty's reporter instincts started kicking in, realizing that her subject was ready to start sharing. She grabbed her recorder and asked quickly if he'd mind her recording their conversation. He didn't. Pop set down his food around that time, and Betty gave Jughead a moment to dig in while she turned on the recorder and scanned her questions.

"So, tell me about the Serpents. They have sort of have a _checkered_ past...has that changed any?"

Jughead chuckled dryly. "I'd say so. Twenty years ago, you wouldn't be sitting down with me, that's for sure. The Serpents have always been a family. They've always fought for what was important to them. Now, though, we've evolved. We fight with civic action. We may look a little rough and tumble, and I can't make any promises that all of us are angels every moment of the day, but the Serpents plan to make the Southside a home for our families for a long time, and we knew that we'd have to take real, and legal, action to do that."

"So that's what the voter registration drives and sit-in protests were about?"

Jughead nodded, and then realized the recording needed his voice. "Yeah, I rounded up some Serpents and we made a real effort there. The protest may not have worked in the end, but we brought real attention to the educational plight in the South Side, and we're seeing things change. And while Fred didn't win, for the first time ever, people who haven't voted ever before got out and cast a ballot."

Betty nodded eagerly, amazed at the things she was hearing from this man. He looked like he belonged on a motorcycle riding into the sunset, and here he was speaking about voter registration. The civic leadership draped in a leather jacket was making Betty's belly flutter.

"And who's this Jellybean? I've heard you mention her twice now."

Jughead smiled. An honest-to-goodness smile. Betty's flutters continued.

"She's my sister. A couple years ago, after my mother took off for Toledo, and my father got sent to prison, I couldn't bear to lose Jellybean too. So you know, I adopted her."

Betty's eyebrows jumped into her hair. This guy, raising his own sister?

"It's nothing," Jughead waved it off, taking a casual slurp of his milkshake. "Anyone would have done the same."

Betty continued the questions as Jughead ate, and even after he was done, they kept talking. Most of the time, she peppered him with questions from her list, but some of the time, new ones popped into her head as she ran with something he'd mentioned. She learned that he did ride a motorcycle - most of the Serpents did - and that he respected his dad, but didn't want to follow in his footsteps. He was a writer and photographer - both activities that allowed him to be his loner self. Betty understood that. Sometimes being around a group made her anxious, or worn out. She loved sitting at her laptop typing away a story and just being in her own thoughts.

It was two hours in, and Pop started wiping down tables, that Betty blinked and looked around at the empty diner. She and Jughead had just been debating the relevance of Fahrenheit 451 to today's political climate and she hadn't even noticed it was closing time.

"Oh, um..." Jughead caught on when he glanced behind him around the room. "It's getting late. I'll let you get going. I'm sure Jellybean is wondering where you are."

Jughead nodded, but as he stood and threw down some money on the table, he responded. "She doesn't live with me anymore. She's 19, and off at State now. I've got the place to myself."

As he said this, he caught Betty's eye and his gaze did not waver. Something about the way he said it made her feel compelled to clarify. "So, no Mrs. Jughead? Or um..."As soon as she said it, she wanted to eat her words. _How desperate can I sound?_

Jughead smirked. "Nope." _Is she interested?_ he wondered. He couldn't help but be pleased with her question. She was younger than him by a few years, but damn if she wasn't the perfect coed princess. Her bow lips had a slight sheen that caught the neon lights just so. All evening, he'd been able to feel the wisp of her shoe whenever she'd crossed or recrossed her legs, and it had made him very aware of what was below the table top.

Perhaps it was his less-than-innocent perusal of her features, or maybe she could read his thoughts, but suddenly Betty was checking a watch that wasn't there.

"Oh um, I should go. It was nice - thank you for doing this interview. I uh, ok. Bye!"

And then she was scurrying off, leaving Jughead to stare after her retreating form. His gaze followed her until she hopped into her old yellow Bug. _She would have that car._ It couldn't have looked more out of place next to his bike. Light next to dark. Soft next to hard. Safe next to dangerous.

Moments later, Pop snapped his fingers in Jughead's face. Jughead was startled, not having seen the owner and friend approach him. When Jughead looked in his direction, the older man was smirking like he'd seen Jughead shooting heart eyes in Betty's direction. He couldn't help rolling his eyes at Pop.

"What? I was just checking out her car. It's a classic." Silence and a smirk from the older man. "What?!"

Jughead swung on his heel, heading to the door. "See you later Pop. And don't get any ideas!"

Later that week, in the early evening light, Jughead was finishing up with a set of chin-ups outside his trailer, his favorite way to work up a sweat without having to interact with the meatheads at the gym. _Let Archie deal with that_ , he thought with a grimace. He heard his phone chirping, indicating someone was calling him. Jughead dropped to the ground, ambling over to the phone laying on the steps of his home. **Betty**. Jughead felt his stomach clench minutely, surprised and excited to see her name flash on his phone. They'd exchanged numbers by email when setting up the interview, and he'd put hers into his phone as soon as he'd gotten back from Pop's. Though, he wasn't dumb enough to hope for a call. But here she was, calling. He answered it quickly, not wanting to miss it.

"Hello?" His voice sounded out of breath, and he was determined to chalk it up solely to the workout.

"Hey, Jughead. It's Betty Cooper, with the River-"

"Betty, I know who you are."

"Oh. Um, good. Well, I submitted a draft of my article to my editor and he loved it. He was very impressed by you. He wants yours to be one of the few full-page spreads in the issue."

Jughead was surprised. And it wasn't a bad surprised. He wasn't sure he wanted the attention, but he couldn't deny it felt good to have someone as wholesome and sweet as Betty Cooper write a story about him that put him in a good light.

"Wow, ok. Are they sure?" His voice betrayed his insecurity.

"Yes! Seriously, Jughead. They loved your story, and how much good you've done for your community and your sister. You deserve to be recognized."

Jughead felt his heart swell a bit at her words.

"Ok, so, um. What do you need from me?"

Betty cleared her throat on the other end as if to give herself a moment. "I um, I need to photograph you."

For some reason, lust flared up hotly in Jughead at her words. They were fairly innocent, but he wondered if it was because of the dream he'd had the night before when he had been the one photographing Betty. Although...he hadn't been taking the kind of photographs fit for a school newspaper.

"Ok, yeah. That's fine. When?"

"Can I come by tonight? Or more specifically, can I meet you at the Whyte Wyrm. You said you manage it, right? I wanted to get you in your element."

Jughead swallowed thickly. Betty, at the Whyte Wyrm? Sweet, innocent, Princess Betty, at his bar? He liked it and hated it at the same time.

"Yeah, that works. I'll be thereat about nine. You can come then."

They said their goodbyes, and Jughead swiped at his sweaty brow. He'd need a shower, that was for sure. And he was positive he'd need to take care of some things in said shower so he wouldn't feel the urge to treat Betty as more than a journalist when he saw her in that bar.

Betty hung up the phone and glanced over at Kevin and Veronica, both of whom were sitting on her bed clapping their hands energetically. They'd obviously gathered that the photo session was a go. She may have spilled to both of them a few extra details about the interview from the other night, including how hot her subject was, and how sexy his jacket was, and...well, it had gone on for a few minutes.

"O.M.G. Betty, this is the perfect way to see where this can go! I'm so glad that Dilton chose your piece as one of the main features. I mean, I can't say I wish mine was a feature too, but..." Kevin trailed off with a wink in his friend's direction. He was such a good friend, despite his teasing. He was genuinely excited for Betty.

Next to him, Veronica was positively buzzing with excitement. "Forget about the article! Betty is going on a date with Tall, Dark, and Moody! What is she going to wear?!"

Betty rolled her eyes at her friend. "It's not a date. It's a meeting."

Silence from the peanut gallery. All they could give her were exasperated glares.

"But what _am_ I going to wear?"

At five to nine, Jughead strode into the Whyte Wyrm. Though the Serpents themselves had cleaned up their act, the bar was still a dark, secluded haven for the more reckless of Riverdale's residents. Jughead himself had tussled here and there with enough Ghoulies and riff-raff within these walls to know that Betty was going to stick out like a sore thumb. Even as he looked around, most of the men and women in the space were clad in leather and denim, or, in the case of some of the women, a few scraps of lace.

He approached the bar, where Toni was at the end slinging drinks for a group of men clamoring for the attention of a couple of women. It looked like Sweet Pea and Fangs, plus a couple others. He squinted in the dim light and realized that the other two were actually Joaquin and Kevin. The women had their back toward him, but both cut a sexy sight from behind. One was dark. Dark hair, tan skin, navy dress. Legs for days that led to a pair of red-soled pumps. The other had bright blonde hair, down and lightly curled around her pale shoulders. She was wearing a black lace tank-top, just cropped enough to show the slight hollow of her back, leading down to a short black skirt.

He didn't bother heading their direction, seeing that Fangs and Sweet Pea had already claimed that spot. He wasn't interested in a dogfight over some chicks. Besides, he needed a shot to get himself ready to see Betty. Maybe two, so he could sit for a few photographs.

Just as Jughead was slamming back the shot of whiskey that Toni had set in front of him, he saw both girls turn in his direction, spurred by Kevin, who was pointing over at him. Jughead nearly choked on the fiery liquid as it caught in his throat with his surprise. _Is that Betty?_

The blonde who'd he'd been eyeing from behind had turned her head, and Jughead immediately recognized her as the adorable, petal-pink reporter from the night before. Except she wasn't adorable tonight. She was in a different universe than adorable tonight. He saw Betty smile in his direction, and then she said something to the girl next to her. She pushed Betty gently off the barstool, but then caught Betty's arm for a second, pulling her back to whisper in her ear. Betty pulled away, blushing furiously as she glanced back at Jughead, who was now patiently waiting for her to stride in his direction. He was dying to get to know this darker side of Betty, even if she could be brought to a blush just the same as the night they met.

It only was a few yards that she had to walk, but Jughead let his gaze linger the entire time. _Fuck, this look suits her,_ Jughead thought. The lace crop top wasn't too short. Only a sliver of her abdomen showed above the waist of her black leather skirt. But damn if that skirt didn't make up for it, barely grazing mid-thigh. Her legs went on for days, white and creamy, ending in black chunky heels.

"Hi," Betty nearly whispered as she got close to him. She rested her hand on the bar top, just millimeters from his own, and he felt as though the nerve endings of his skin were calling to him to move closer.

"Betty," Jughead paused, swallowing thickly. "You look...nice."

She let her hair fall into her face as she looked down, embarrassed. "I know. It's probably a little over-the-top. Kevin and Veronica made me wear it. They said I'd look like a PTA mom compared to the rest of you in here unless I let them gussie me up."

"It's not over the top. It's..." he took a sip of the beer that had come with the shot, letting the cool liquid wet his dry lips. "It's just right."

Betty blushed again, but this time looked up, pride showing through a bit as she digested his words.

"Thanks, Jughead. So, I brought my camera. I know it's sort of dark in here, but I thought we could try a couple at the bar, or playing pool. I'll check them out and see if that'll work."

He nodded and then gestured at the bar. "Can I get you a drink? I know when I take photographs, I always like something to steady the nerves a bit."

Betty vigorously nodded, and then glanced with curiosity at his empty shot glass. "I'll have whatever you had," she responded bravely.

Jughead chuckled, not being able to picture the blonde enjoying the sharp burn of the whiskey, but ordered it anyway. Soon enough, he was entertained by the pained grimace she gave as she swallowed the amber liquid, followed by a slight but dignified cough.

"Enjoy that, princess?"

Betty jutted out her chin in mock anger. She could run with the big boys. "Yes, I love whiskey." It would have helped had her words not come out a raspy croak.

Betty pulled the camera out of her bag. It looked fairly similar to his own, and he wondered how much practice she had at using it. But as she readied the settings and checked the exposure, he realized that she must be a double threat at least because she looked to be able to handle the camera just fine.

"Do you want me here?" Jughead had settled into a bar stool, grasping his beer in front of it. It was rare that he was on the other side of the camera, and he wasn't exactly sure what to do.

"Yeah, just like that. Except -" Betty paused, coming toward him. He held his breath as she adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, and then, almost as if without thought, caught an errant lock of hair that'd fallen from his cap and swooped it back with soft fingers so it was out of his eyes.

And with that, Jughead phased out the rest of the bar, ignoring the loud music and jostling bodies, only focused on Betty's face behind the camera, and her pouty lips that pursed as she found her shot. She paused for a moment, and he composed himself by peeling the label off his beer bottle, knowing she was likely looking for her next shot.

"It's a little dark here. Let's go over to the pool tables. I happen to play a mean game, thanks to the table in our student lounge in high school. Actually, Archie taught me."

Jughead chuckled. "And I taught him." Betty glanced back at him, surprised, but then continued on to the tables, where the hanging lights provided a sultry glow over the table.

They chose their cues, and as he was prepping his, he could feel Betty taking photos of him. She encouraged him to break, and once again, he was the focus of her camera. He made his first shot, but missed his next, though he can't say he was entirely focused on the game. Finally, it was Betty's turn. She silently gave him the camera to hold, and he felt a pleasant buzz as her fingers brushed his briefly. His buzz intensified to an electric shock as she leaned over the table and neatly sunk a ball into a corner pocket. Betty glanced up at him with a glorious grin, and he couldn't help but smile right back.

Suddenly inspired, Jughead raised the camera to his eye as Betty lined up for her next shot. He caught her in profile, and he felt like he was shooting for National Geographic, watching a gazelle poised gracefully. She was absolutely breathtaking. He lowered the camera slightly and continued to watch her.

Missing her shot, Betty looked up towards Jughead, realizing that he'd been taking her picture. She paused for a second as if assessing the situation, and he watched her lip slip briefly between her teeth. When she didn't move, Jughead did. He approached her slowly, and Jughead felt like he was no longer a photographer in the Serengeti, but a lion, approaching his prey. Betty's knuckles grew white as she grasped the cue in her hand, but the look in her eyes did not show fear or confusion. They showed need.

Jughead set the camera on the chair where her bag lay, moving his free hand to rest gently on Betty's hip so that his thumb rested on the bare skin above her skirt. Her sharp intake of breath through slightly parted lips told him that she too felt the electricity in their touch. Jughead could feel his pants tighten, just being this close to her. The alcohol he'd drank thus far was coursing through his veins and he was nearly lightheaded with anticipation, so he gripped her hip harder, digging his fingers into the warm leather of her skirt.

Betty, for her part, could barely control her breathing. Jughead was in front of her, inches from her body, grasping her hip with barely restrained...lust? Need? Based on the look in his eyes as they drifted toward her parted lips, she felt those words described his gaze aptly enough.

"The light is better in the back...in my office." Jughead's suggestion was a harsh whisper, but Betty's senses, heightened as they were, heard him clearly. Her sense of intuition was also in overdrive, fluctuating between an instinctive need to get closer to the man in front of her, but also whispering cautiously in her ear what exactly might occur in that back office. It was the soft stroke of his thumb on the tingling nerves of her hip that did her in, and she nodded silently in his direction.

Jughead didn't waste a second. He quickly sheathed their pool cues and whipped around, encircling her wrist with his long fingers and gently pulling her beyond the tables, where she spotted a hallway and set of doors. She briefly glanced back and saw both Veronica and Kevin looking intently at her. Kevin held up a thumbs up with a questioning face, and Betty nodded, assuring him of her consent in this change of location. She knew that this had been Kevin and Veronica's hope all along anyway, so she didn't guess they were about to try and dissuade her from leaving with Jughead.

Jughead steered Betty toward the last door, far at the end of the hallway. Once he'd unlocked it, he pulled her inside, shutting the door softly behind him. The din of the bar became a distant muffle, and Betty realized just how secluded they were back here. The click of the lock echoed in the quiet. There was a dim lamp sitting on the desk already on, and it provided just enough of a glow for Betty to get a good look around the room. It wasn't big, though there was enough room for a desk, a couple of chairs, and some bookshelves and filing cabinets. Off to the side, there was a worn couch with a blanket thrown over the side.

Jughead caught her appraisal of his office, which had lingered on the sofa. "Sometimes I crash here when it's a particularly long night, or I've had too much to drink to drive home."

Betty nodded, but then pulled that damn lip between her teeth once again. "Or when you bring girls back here..." She trailed off shyly, suddenly realizing her role in this likely frequent performance.

Jughead shook his head, one of his errant locks of hair falling over his brow. "No, no girls back here. Just you."

And with that, Betty felt surer of her place here in this office with Jughead. _Just me,_ she thought. _And him._ She slipped the bag off her shoulder, and without a word handed it to Jughead. He gently placed it on the desk, and both of them looked knowingly at each other. The camera, their excuse for coming back here, was in that bag, and neither of them was interested in taking it back out.

Jughead leaned against the edge of the desk, watching as Betty became acclimated to the environment. This was his space. The dark walls and wood cocooned him, and he felt at home here. Betty trailed her hands along the bookshelves, which were filled with his favorite titles, as well as pictures of the Serpents over the past generations. She looked back over her shoulder at Jughead as she traced a finger across his face in one of the more recent photos, and Jughead grew impatient for her touch on his actual skin.

"Come here, Betty." His voice was low and commanding, without being forceful. It worked exactly as he'd hoped, and she turned wordlessly and approached him at his perch.

Reaching out, he grasped both her elbows in his hands and pulled her maddeningly slowly into his body, and her legs fit neatly between his own outstretched ones. Her palms rested on his chest, partly on the soft material of his t-shirt and partly on the leather of his open jacket. Having Betty this close, after all the fantasizing he'd been doing within the last few days, Jughead was done with hesitation. He let go of one of her elbows and trailed his hand up her arm, relishing in the goosebumps along the way. He grazed over the lace sleeve on her shoulder and was soon drifting along her neck, where her pulse was hammering madly in response. Slowly, he sunk his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, and Betty leaned back into his palm, humming slightly with shuttered eyes at the feel of his fingers threaded through her locks.

That was enough for him. Jughead pulled forward with that hand, catching Betty off balance so she had to grasp the lapels of his jacket for stability, and leaned into her. Before she could register, his lips were on hers, and finally, finally, they felt what they'd both been yearning for since he'd walked through that door at Pop's that night.

Jughead squeezed his hands on her elbow and hair, and the resounding moan that sprung from Betty allowed him to slip his tongue between her lips, stroking against hers erotically. It was just a kiss. They'd both done more, surely, but each of them couldn't believe the fire that erupted within them both as they slanted their mouths against one another in a desperate attempt to get closer.

Moments passed, and both Jughead and Betty were awash with sensation. Betty needed to get closer, to feel Jughead more fully around her. She slipped her hands beneath the lapels of his jacket and trailed them strongly against his chest and then up onto his shoulders. Jughead nearly felt his eyes roll back at the amazing sensation of her hot hands rubbing at his body, and he pulled her in closer so that her hips bumped his forcefully, immediately reminding them both of their desire for each other. Betty's hands continued to tug at his shoulders as her hips rubbed against his. Jughead released her elbow and instead grasped onto a much more delectable area. While one hand held her insistently against his mouth, stroking now and again through the soft hair at the back of her head, the other palmed at the curve of her ass, dangerously close to the short hem of her skirt.

Betty responded to this change of position in exactly the way Jughead had hoped. Her hands, which had just been grasping at his shoulders, now took to pushing, releasing the jacket from his top half. He quickly released his arms from her, allowing the jacket to slump to the desk behind him. Both of them breathed heavily as they paused for a moment. Jughead wasn't sure what to do next. Continue as they had been, teasing themselves mercilessly? Or take it up a notch? He'd let Betty decide for them. So he placed his hands back to rest against the desk and shot her a dark look, hoping to convey what he needed. Betty, for her part, read that look easily, and took the invitation willingly. She returned her hands to his shirt, but this time, at the bottom. Like a whisper, her hands dipped lightly below the bottom hem and danced up his abs, palms leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they approached his chest. Soon, she was fully under the material, and Jughead was grasping the edge of the desk like a life preserver.

"Take this off," she said. Had Jughead not seen the words as they left her lips, he would have thought he'd made it up. But her hands pushing insistently at the shoulders of his shirt reminded him he'd heard right. Quickly, he grasped the back of the neck, pulling the shirt easily over his head. As it swept to the floor, Betty noticed it'd taken his hat with him, and so much more of Jughead was revealed. She didn't know where to touch, his bare chest, lean but lightly muscled, or his chaotic hair, dark and soft.

So instead she kissed him and placed one hand against his chest, where her pinky brushed teasingly against a tight nipple, and one in his hair, dragging her nails through the thicket.

"Harder," Jughead growled to both of their surprises. But Betty was more than happy to acquiesce. She dragged her nails harder down his scalp, letting them drag past his hairline and down across his shoulders, leaving pink welts as she went. The corresponding kiss he gave her curled her toes, and this time both his hands found their way to her ass, grasping her forcefully against his hardness. They both moaned, and Betty practically climbed him like a tree, desperate to get closer to him.

Afraid she'd fall from her precarious tiptoe against him, Jughead moved them quickly to the couch, his lips never leaving hers. He sat heavily and felt his dick press painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He hissed, unconsciously adjusting himself before Betty straddled him. And straddle him she did, but she didn't miss him palming his bulge with a look of discomfort.

"Does it hurt?" Betty asked, trailing a fingertip down the zipper of his jeans. Jughead's jaw clenched, and he wished she would press more firmly to that same spot.

"It's, ah, uncomfortably tight, you could say." He tried to brush it off, not wanting to be that guy.

Betty tsked, placing her fingers against the button. "That's no good. Let's get a little more comfortable."

And with that, she popped the button and drew the zipper down slowly. Jughead immediately thrust upwards as soon as he was free from the confines, his cock seeking out its savior. Bettys gaze couldn't leave the spot between them. His boxer briefs barely concealed his size, and she could see a small dot of moisture at the tip where she was sure precum had gathered from their ministrations so far. Uncharacteristically brave, Betty palmed the cloth-covered bulge, and Jughead dropped his head against the back of the couch, groaning.

"Yes, Betty. Fuck. More."

 _I can do more,_ she thought with a shiver. And more she did. Slipping a hand beneath the edge of the shorts, she drew the elastic down slightly, and immediately his hard member popped up out against his stomach. She felt her mouth water at the sight of his engorged penis, which was odd because never before had she found them very enticing. But his, she did.

"Can I touch you?" Betty asked hesitantly, not sure how much Jughead could take.

His eyes snapped open and he fixed her with a laser gaze. Without answering, he grasped one of her hands in his and brought it to his cock, wrapping both their hands firmly around it. Jughead felt his hips reflexively thrust against their twin tight grip, but he stilled himself, afraid to scare her off. Instead, he loosened his grip on hers, and let her do whatever she wanted.

Slowly, Betty drew her hand up, twisting it slightly when she reached the tip. It was there that she found a bead of cum, and she caught it with her palm before dragging her hand back down, lubricated slightly. Seeing Jughead's expression as she did this was easily the best part. His eyes were dark and heavily lidded, and they never left hers. His hands, though, constantly moved. They trailed along her kneeling things, then up her calves, then again up her thighs, but this time along the back. Soon, as she continued to explore the feel of his weight in her hand, his own were rising up under the hem of her leather skirt, fingering the lace of her panties. His grip on her felt amazing, and she felt her hands grip tighter and speed up minutely around his cock. Jughead could hardly take a second more.

"Betty, please. Fuck. I need you." His fingers were deep into the back of her underwear now, and she could feel them caress her skin desperately. She too felt needy. His fingers were so close to where she wanted him.

Betty sat up off Jughead for a moment, moving her hands to her shirt and pulling it over her head. Jughead's hands immediately went to her chest, tracing the top of the bra where her heaving breaths spilled her breasts enticingly out of the lace cups. He leaned forward, pressing his face to her cleavage, and one hand pulled her roughly by the ass down onto his lap, desperate to have her center touching his. It felt heavenly sinful. The only thing that was aggravating him was that her bunched-up skirt was hiding what he really wanted to see. He couldn't wait any longer.

"Stand up." His command was gruff and authoritative, but Betty didn't mind one bit. She swung her leg back and clambered off his lap, trying to catch her breath and her balance. She hadn't moved far, and all Jughead had to do was sit forward a bit, and his mouth was at her belly button. He kissed delicately at the skin beside it, and Betty let a nervous giggle escape. Jughead let his eyes meet hers at the sound, and without breaking contact, he bit teasingly into the same spot.

"Ugh, fuck. Juggie," Betty moaned as she gripped her hands into his hair for stability.

 _Is she trying to push me over the edge?_ Jughead wondered fleetingly. Not waiting to find out, or perhaps hurrying to find out, he slipped his hands to the back of her skirt, finding the zipper and pulling it down. He sat back against the couch cushions, letting Betty do the rest.

"Oh, so it's like that?" Betty smirked, realizing he wanted her to undress for him.

"Yeah, it's like that," Jughead breathed out, not able to stop himself from stroking his cock once more. He noticed her eyes follow his hand, and it made him swell and ache.

Betty hooked her fingers into the top of her skirt, crooking a leg as she bent slightly, peeling the tight leather off her legs. Jughead wasn't sure what view he'd rather have - looking at her front, where her breasts pressed together as she bent forward, or from the back, where he was certain her lace panties were wrapped around a tight, supple ass. He knew he'd just have to enjoy both views at some point.

Skirt finally kicked off her feet, Betty stood, the absolute picture of pinup perfection. Her black lace lingerie set, while not obscene, was sexy beyond his wildest dreams. She still had on her black heels, which made her tower over his seated form. And finally, up to her face, where her lips were swollen and well-loved, and her hair tousled in a way he'd want to see many times over. Betty's eyes locked on his, and the sureness in them made it clear where this would be finishing tonight. So much of her had exuded confidence during their interview, and now that she'd embraced their attraction for one another, the confidence was so clearly bleeding over to this moment.

Jughead stood, his body immediately pressed against Betty's. She moved her hands to the hem of his jeans and briefs, pushing them down simultaneously. As soon as they'd dropped at his feet, Jughead wasted no time scattering his boots to the far corners of the room. Standing back up, his cock trapped between their heated bodies, their hands moved simultaneously. His went to her waist, dragging her panties down her legs. He could see the trail of moisture they left on her inner thigh, and his erection reached peak hardness. Betty, at the same time, was busy removing her bra, which she tossed without a thought somewhere in the direction of his pants. Finally, a moment later, standing face to face, they both relished in the feel of their naked bodies against each other. Wanting to savor this moment, suddenly not in a hurry, Jughead pressed his forehead against hers.

"Hi," Jughead whispered, smiling just barely as Betty blushed. Only she could blush at the sweet moment while also naked against him.

"Hi." Betty's response was cut off by his soft kiss. Jughead took her gently by the hips and turned her so that her legs were pressed against the couch. Slowly he lowered her down, watching her as her hair fanned out against the blanket laying over the cushions. She looked both angelic and sexier than any fantasy, and his heart and his erection were fighting for dominance. To assuage the battle, Jughead knelt so that his knee was between hers, his other on the floor, allowing him to prop up over Betty, his strong arms caging her shoulders.

The foot of distance was too much for her, and excited goosebumps popped up on her skin. More enticingly, her nipples hardened to buds and Jughead watched as she subtly writhed below him, looking for warmth and friction.

"Take what you want, Betty." Jughead, though hovering over her, wanted her to guide the next step. Eagerly, Betty looped her hands around Jughead's neck, tugging him down toward her so that she could kiss him deeply. He closed the rest of the gap, laying his body against hers, for the first time feeling his hardness touch the softness of her downy hair and soft skin. Jughead moaned as he thrust abruptly against her, craving nothing more than the friction that her center provided on his weeping cock. He was just millimeters from the place he wanted to be but wasn't sure how far Betty was willing to let him go right here on this couch.

"Ugh, Juggie." Betty's hands moved to his waist, grasping them as she tilted her hips to his. He knew he could make her feel much better, but he could feel the hint of wetness at the base of his cock and realized that he must be rubbing right along the most delicious spot. For a moment, they indulged themselves in languid rubbing like a couple of desperate teenagers. It had felt good then, and it felt just as good as an adult.

Suddenly, Betty hooked a leg around his hip, and before he knew it, Jughead's next thrust came into contact with the wet warmth of her center. His hips stuttered back in surprise, and he lifted his face from the crook of her neck where he'd be kissing and nuzzling. Betty's lip was once again caught between her teeth, but he didn't think it was from hesitation this time. He searched her eyes for the certainty he was hoping to see there, and they shone with desire and confidence.

Reaching down to where he'd laid his wallet, Jughead quickly pulled out a condom he'd put there as soon as he'd gotten home from meeting Betty. Though he'd never actually believed it'd happen, he'd had enough fantasies of this exact moment to indulge his hopeful preparation. Jughead ripped it open quickly, sheathing himself in mere moments. He held himself at the base firmly, willing himself to calm down, before this was over too soon.

Betty watched this all, her eyes dark with passion. But she couldn't keep them open as she felt his fingers move to her center, parting her and dipping inside to feel her wetness. It felt fuzzy and good and then suddenly it felt electric and amazing. One finger had grazed just the right spot. Her hips jumped and her mouth opened as she wordlessly asked for it again. Jughead didn't disappoint. He moved his fingers to the spot more insistently, rubbing in sure circles.

"Aghh, oh my God," Betty gasped, hardly able to form the words as she felt her world centering into one delicious inch.

"Do you want more, princess?" Jughead's voice was as harsh as his movements, and both only served to turn her on more.

"Yes, please. More, please."

Jughead continued rubbing her with his thumb, but let two fingers slide inside her, preparing her channel for his length. Betty threw her head back against the pillows and keened her appreciation, pushing her hips insistently against his hand. One of her hands held his forearm for support, while the other reached blindly for his cock, which at this point was as ready and waiting as it'd ever been.

He took this as a sign to proceed, so Jughead removed his hands from her warmth and together they held the base of his cock as he positioned himself at her entrance. Betty arched her hips up and Jughead bore down, and slowly, exquisitely, they became one. Jughead could feel the sigh leave him as he paused, forehead against Betty's. He had to stay still for a second. Nothing had ever felt as good as this, and he didn't want to spoil it by hammering into her wildly like his hips desired.

Betty was the one who started the movement, pulling him toward her with the leg at his waist. Jughead slid deeper into her, and then back, pulling out only slightly before pushing forward. Foreheads still touching, they locked eyes, breathing into each other. Intermittently, they'd kiss, slow and languid, without the previous desperation. Both Jughead and Betty allowed themselves to just feel the warm, real pleasure of this moment.

But before long, the pleasure had built in Jughead, and he couldn't stop himself from sitting up a little more, balancing on one hand as he let the other wander Betty's body. First, he stopped at her breasts, where he paid special attention to her rosebud nipples. Her eager reaction made the meeting of their thrusts slightly more forceful, and both groaned in relief. Soon, his hand continued on, this time heading further south toward the place where their hips collided. Jughead slipped his thumb between them and watched as Betty's eyes flew open wide and wanting. He'd hardly touched her there and her neck was already corded from the anticipation.

 _Oh, Jesus_ , Betty thought, unable to form the words with her mouth. Jughead's finger on her clit and cock pounding more forcefully into her channel were causing her tongue to tie and eyes to cross and she never wanted it to stop. She'd had enough practice with her own body to know that this feeling was near the peak, just moments from where she was yearning for.

"Jughead, don't - ngghhh - don't stop!" All their movements got more frantic. The kisses, the thumb on her bundle of nerves, the hammering of his cock into her.

"Betty, fuck, Betts. Oh, Goddddd." Jughead could feel his stomach clenching as he began to reach the crest of his pleasure. He dove down, stealing her breath in a deep kiss, hoping to coax her into his freefall. Moments later, Jughead felt Betty's hips rise to his and freeze as if held with a string only he was mastering. Both of them groaned deeply into the kiss, not able to do much more.

Finally, the moment calmed, and Betty's hips returned to the couch, still nestling Jughead's in their cradle. Jughead breathed in a gasping inhale, not sure how long it'd been since he'd last taken in oxygen. Betty could feel his heart hammering against her own slick chest, and the feeling caused a bubble of joyful laughter to burst forth from her.

Jughead pulled back, glancing with mirth at her exquisite, exhausted, exuberant face.

"Something funny?" His wry tone told her he was in a light mood as well.

Betty shook her head though, feigning seriousness. "No, nothing funny here." But their eyes met and both Betty and Jughead could see the happiness beaming forth in each other's stare.

 **If you enjoyed it, drop me a review. Reviews give me sustenance to keep writing more stories!**


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